


glory & gore

by btichcraft



Series: glory & gore-verse [1]
Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, Legacies (TV 2018), The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hunger Games Setting, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Challenge: The Hunger Games Competition, F/F, Hunger Games References, Hunger Games-Typical Death/Violence, Hurt/Comfort, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:54:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26541733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/btichcraft/pseuds/btichcraft
Summary: “the future is uncertain but the end is always near.”twenty-five years after katniss and peeta's failed rebellion, josie saltzman is thrown into the 100th quarter quell where she meets a girl from district two named hope. angst, love and violence ensue.
Relationships: Hope Mikaelson/Josie Saltzman
Series: glory & gore-verse [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1930024
Comments: 11
Kudos: 48





	1. chapter one

**Author's Note:**

> this fic will have death, gore, and other triggering topics please read at your own risk! that being said i hope you enjoy i'm having a lot of fun with this fic :)

“Older men declare war. But it is youth that must fight and die.”

Steam blows in Josie’s face as she takes the lid off the stew, breathing in the mouthwatering smell of wild turkey and boiled vegetables. Lizzie comes up from behind her with chopped carrots, using the knife to push them into the pot. 

It was an old recipe their mother would make each Sunday, accompanied by fresh bread from the bakery near her work, but now they couldn’t spare money for bakery-quality bread each week. They save it for special occasions like their birthdays or holidays their dad gets off work. 

The two dance around each other in their small kitchen, each adding some spice or ingredient to their stew until the front door opens. Their father walks in, shrugging off his coat and hat and making his way to the twins. 

“Smells good,” He says, kissing each of the girls on the side of their heads.

He washes his hands as Lizzie grabs bowls, and Josie stirs the pot. Carefully, she doles out small portions of stew into each of their bowls, making sure to save enough leftovers. This is the only food they can afford for the week. 

Lizzie goes to sit at the kitchen table before their father reminds them, “The Quarter Quell announcement is tonight.”

The frown on his face deepens as he picks up Lizzie’s bowl and brings it with him to the living room— well, calling it a living room would be an overstatement. It was just the government-issued television and a ratty old couch. 

The couch was nice once, back when her mother was still alive and took care of the house’s upkeep; since she died, the whole place had fallen into some form of disrepair. It wasn’t anyone’s fault; Josie and her sister were young and in school, and their father had to take up extra shifts at the factory to keep their family home. 

The Saltzman’s aren’t rich by any stretch of the imagination, but they aren’t poor, not like others in the district. Alaric, the family patriarch, works overtime in the textile factory near their home to provide for his family, but the pay isn’t great. To supplement their income Josie and Lizzie take occasional jobs working as seamstresses for the greasy local tailor. 

Life was hard but manageable.

The television comes to life playing the National Anthem as the seal of Panem appears on the screen, signaling this is a mandatory viewing broadcast— all the citizens of Panem will be tuned in to President Snow’s announcement. 

She comes on screen dressed in a white pantsuit with a red rose pinned in her suit pocket. Josie has never liked her, her face unsettled her— with her piercing serpentine eyes and the giddy smile she sports as she sends kids off to die. There was something not right with her. 

“As written in the Games’ charter some hundred years ago, a Quarter Quell will take place every twenty-five years. This year we celebrate 100 years of the Hunger Games and the fourth Quarter Quell.”

The tension in the room, and most certainly the nation, rise as President Snow pauses for applause. 

Cheers die down as she raises her hand, “Fortune has granted us with a needed reminder of the effects of the Second Uprising and the power of women and girls who played a part in it. For the one-hundredth year of the Hunger Games, two girls from each district will be reaped.”

The crowd erupts into screams and cheers before the live feed is cut off. The light of the television dies out and leaves Josie and her family in darkness. No one dares move or talk, as if acknowledging it makes it real— that if they stay still, the consequences of that speech mean nothing. That it doesn’t mean there’s twice the possibility that Josie or her sister are going to be sent to the arena. 

Lizzie is the first to break, reaching her hand across the coach to Josie’s. 

They stay just like that for what feels like hours. 

. . . 

Some weeks later and it’s the day of the Reaping, Josie plaits Lizzie’s hair at their mother’s old vanity as their father watches on.

“You two look beautiful.”

“Thanks, Dad,” They say in unison, they can’t help but laugh. Even though they’re twins, Josie and Lizzie are two very distinctly different people, and moments like this, when they do something utterly twin-like, tends to raise a laugh or two. 

An alarm goes off outside, and they sober up immediately, remembering the reality of their day. Today was the fifth year they’ve had to get ready like this, and the fifth time they’ve had to hear that very same alarm. Wearing their most special dresses, they will march down to the square with their heads held high, pretending to be above the Capitol’s intended fear. But in reality, they’re terrified. 

As the two walk out of their house, they file in with the rest of the district’s kids— District 8. They pass factory after factory, more girls joining the group as they go, each walking off to their possible death. 

Even though this year, the Capitol decided to only reap girls, the boys of their district come too dressed in their finest and join the girls on their march towards death. Maybe their presence is a mandate, but their silent show of support in their dress does not go unnoticed. 

We may not be going into the arena this time, but you reap one of us, you reap us all. No one is free, no one is exempt. 

Josie feels a hand grab hers as they near the check-in line. She looks up and sees her friend Penelope giving her a tight-lipped but kind smile. She and Penelope have a complicated history— friends to girlfriends to exes to somewhat enemies to friends again. There was a time when she’d wish she’d never known Penelope Park, but now any friendly face is welcome, especially hers. 

Penelope swings their hands together and gives them a squeeze before leaving for her line; words aren’t needed to express how they’re both feeling. Of course, Lizzie gives her a glare as she walks away; she’s never quite forgiven her for breaking Josie’s heart last year. 

“I don’t know why you still hang out with her,” Lizzie groans out as if her presence has ruined her day and not today’s actual events. 

“You forget I broke her heart too, Lizzie.”

“Yeah well, when I see her crying nightly for a month like you did, maybe I’ll remember.” 

Josie blushes. It’s not her fault; she falls in love easily and out of it twice as hard. She has a big heart, that’s what her mother used to say when she’d come home crying over her crush of the week growing up. 

Josie wishes she was here every day, today even more so. While her dad is supportive and helpful at times, he lacks the special touch that she brought to everything. She could always find a way to talk down the twins and always knew exactly what to say when emotions were high. And there’s no day with more heightened emotions than a special, girls-only reaping. 

“Next.”

She finally lets go of Lizzie’s hand and brings it forward for the peacekeeper to prick. The two make it through quickly and are ushered into the pen for girls aged seventeen. With each step, Josie feels her stomach getting tighter, and instinctively reaches for her sister. 

Their district escort Iggy starts to go through the beginning speeches about the Reaping. 

Josie tunes him out and turns to Lizzie, “You have to promise, this year more than any, that you won’t volunteer for me.”

Lizzie looks at her pained, knowing that this is an impossible promise, but one their mom always pushed. It would dishonor her wishes to say no, so reluctantly, Lizzie nods. Josie pulls out her pinky finger and holds it out in question. 

“Promise?”

“Promise,” Lizzie replies. “But it goes both ways. You have to promise not to volunteer for me either.”

“Promise,” They link their pinkies, but it’s a lie. Josie knows even if it’d hurt their mother to do so, she’ll volunteer for Lizzie in a heartbeat. 

They focus their attention back on the stage where Iggy is just finishing up the video from the Capitol. 

“Well I just love that, never gets old!” He grins enthusiastically to the cameras and crowd. “Now, onto the girls, well the first of the girls— we have two lucky ladies to draw for today! How wonderful is that?”

The square is dead silent, but Iggy doesn’t seem to notice or care and flounces to one of the reaping bowls. His hand swirls around, feeling the cards in the glass, perhaps trying to sense which is the right one— the lucky one.

“Josette Saltzman.”

The words echo in Josie’s mind, fuck. 

She feels her sister let go of her hand, and Josie stops her before she makes the biggest mistake of her life— volunteering. 

“You promised.”

“But, Jo,” Lizzie starts to tear up as she looks into her twin’s eyes, pleading with her. 

Josie pulls her sister into a hug, hoping it will hide her shaking body from the cameras long enough to pull herself together. She holds onto Lizzie a little too long, and their escort starts to get antsy with anticipation. With one final breath, she breathes in her sister’s scent. She smells like home and like the flowers that grow wild by her school— two things Josie will never smell again. 

Reluctantly, Josie lets go as the peacekeepers approach to escort her on stage. They put their hands on of the small of her back and lead her to Iggy. Josie has to stop herself from looking back at her sister one last time— she doesn’t want to seem weak in front of the cameras.

She’s already a small tribute from District 8 with no training heading into a bloodbath where experienced fighters will hunt her for sport and most certainly kill her; she can’t bear looking weak on top of that too. 

The steps up to the Justice Building are large, steep, stone slabs, no doubt from District Two’s quarries, and Josie somehow manages to trip going up them. The district escort, Iggy, helps her up with a laugh, his eyes signaling her to do the same. So she does. 

She puts on a fake smile and gives a short laugh while she looks at the cameras. 

So much for not looking weak, she thinks. Weak and uncoordinated, apparently. 

“And now another,” He does the same thing, twirling his manicured fingers through the hundreds of names, finally settling on one. 

Josie tries her best to control herself and hold her head high, but the dozens of cameras and lights on her under the hot sky of summer aren’t making it easy. She knows every twitch, movement, and shake is being broadcast to the whole country right now, and that’s terrifying. But nothing is more frightening than what Iggy says next.

“Elizabeth Saltzman! Where are you, honey?”

Her stomach sinks and clenches in ways it never has before. Josie’s eyes find her sister’s in the crowd, looking for validation that she heard him right. She did. Frantically, Josie searches the crowd pleading for anyone to volunteer and take Lizzie’s place, but no one does, and no one dares move as the peacekeepers escort Lizzie on stage.

“Saltzman and Saltzman? I see the resemblance! Sisters?”

“Twins,” they reply in unison as he pushes the mic between them. He goes back to talking, but Josie tunes him out; instead, she grabs Lizzie’s hand, and Lizzie squeezes back, holding on for dear life. Her hand starts to hurt, but Josie doesn’t dare let go. 

What luck they had, there hasn’t been a sibling duo in the Games for years. 

The Reaping wraps up fast, and before they know it, Josie and Lizzie are being led to the rooms used for goodbyes in the Justice Building. But not for one second does Josie think about letting go of her sister’s hand.

The peacekeeper has to pry them apart to go in their separate rooms, causing Lizzie to cry a little harder. Josie keeps her face collected but seeing her sister in this much pain makes her tear up, and Lizzie notices. 

The door creaks open in the small room the peacekeeper put her in, and in the doorway Penelope Park. She takes no time closing the distance between them, pulling Josie into her arms. Josie buries her face in Penelope’s neck and finally lets herself properly cry.

Penelope holds the brunette tightly as sobs wrack her body, rubbing her hands down Josie’s back. This was something Penelope was always good at— comfort. 

She would hold Josie through the hard nights of missing her mom or when she’d get sick beyond belief, rubbing patterns into her skin with a comforting voice telling her it’s going to be okay. Josie always feels safe in her warm arms.

Penelope is the first to pull away, “You have to win, Jo.”

Josie shakes her head rapidly, wiping snot and tears from her face, “You know I can’t do that.”

It’s Penelope’s turn to shake her head.

“No. You have to at least try to fight,” Penelope has tears of her own running down her face, and Josie can’t bear to look at them. “You owe yourself and Lizzie that.”

“What’s the point? It’s not like I can even win. I’ll die a painful, yet forgettable, death like the rest of the District 8 tributes.”

“You don’t know that! Who knows, maybe you’ll discover a weapon or skill during training that could save your life in the arena. One that’ll play on your natural talents.”

“Sure, if they have a sewing machine, I’ll be golden.” 

Penelope glares at her, but she doesn’t look as menacing as usual; instead, she looks just about as scared as Josie felt, “This isn’t a joke, Josie. This is your life.”

The door opens, and she pulls Josie into one last hug before the peacekeeper drags her away. 

“Please,” Penelope whispers as she leaves, her eyes pleading. 

As much as Josie wants to tell her yes, that she’ll try, but she knows that’s a promise she can’t keep. She can’t afford to be selfish now. She can’t even afford to hope. 

It isn’t much longer until the door opens, showing her father. He rushes in but hesitates to hug her, just standing there teary-eyed.

“I can’t lose you both.”

The look in his eyes is clear, and Josie knows what needs to be done. 

“You won’t.”

He takes this as his cue and wraps his arms around the girl, embracing her with all his might knowing it’ll be the last time he’ll hug her. 

Because if one thing is sure, it’s that Lizzie is the one making it out of that arena alive.


	2. chapter two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this took so long!! i had some writer's block but i made the chapter extra long to make up for it.... hopefully :p

“You are enough to drive a saint to madness or a king to his knees.”

District 8 passes by as they drive to the train, the sun setting as they drive. Josie takes in every bit of her home, etching it to memory because she knows it’s the last time she’s going to see it. 

It’s bittersweet. On one hand, she’s leaving the only place she’s ever known, and on the other, she gets to experience this whole new world, even if it is only for a little while. But the idea of the Capitol somewhat scares her. How out of place and plain she’ll look among these colorful and extravagant people and places. Like a fish out of water.

When they board the train, her suspicions are confirmed. The train is decked out head to toe with gold detailing on the wallpapered walls. Iggy tells them it’s one of many rooms on the train, and they all look different, this one happens to be the dining car, so there’s a massive eight-seater dining table filled to the brim with extravagant food— food Josie doesn’t even know the names to. 

As good as it smells, she knows she can’t eat, her stomach has been in knots for hours, and the thought of eating makes her sick. 

“Could someone show me to my room? I’m not feeling well,” Josie says. This pulls Lizzie from her trance, and she looks at Josie, worried. Josie tries her best to give a reassuring smile, but it must not be compelling as Lizzie’s frown deepens. 

“What about dinner?” Lizzie says.

“I’m still feeling full from lunch.”

Lizzie looks at her, not entirely convinced but nods anyway. 

Iggy leads Josie to her room in silence. He must be able to sense her anxiety and dread about her current situation. They go between a couple of train cars before arriving on one of the dorm cars. 

“Here we are, your room,” He gives her a small smile with his big lips covered in green lipstick. “There are clothes in the dresser if you want to change. 

Josie gives him a nod and thanks him before closing the door. 

Iggy so far seemed pretty kind all things considered, but he was much like other Capitol citizens in other ways. Every year he came back with a new color scheme. This year is green and purple. Luckily, he prefers soft, muted colors and not the usual Capitol bright that would surely hurt her eyes. 

The walls of the room are a deep purple with floral accents. The same gold detailing is carried throughout the train— or at least what she’s seen of it. The furniture is black with a glossy finish and so polished Josie can see her reflection. She traces her hand over the dresser, admiring the handiwork of whoever made it— someone from District 1, no doubt. 

Josie pulls open the drawers until she finds pajamas she can wear to bed. The fabric is high-quality silk. She has only felt silk once, and it was on her mother’s wedding gown. After she died, they had to sell the dress to afford food as her father was depressed and under preforming at his job. It was a last resort, one they never thought they’d have to take, but when you have two girls under the age of 12 to feed, you’ll do about anything to keep their bellies full. 

She neatly folds her dress and places it on top of the dresser before stepping into the emerald green nightgown. The silk feels amazing against her skin, a sensation she’s never felt before and one she could get used to. 

If the Capitol does anything right, it’s luxury. Josie pulls back the covers on her bed— more silk, she thinks. The bed is plush, and unlike anything she had back home, but despite its comfort, Josie can’t seem to fall asleep. She’s never slept without her sister before. 

After what feels like hours, there’s a knock on her door, they don’t wait for a response and just come in, and Josie feels panicked as she can’t see who it is. 

“Who’s there?” She calls out.

The shadow approaches her bed and is right next to her before saying, “It’s me, Jo.”

Her sister is a welcome presence. Even though the idea of having her own room is exciting, after seventeen years of sleeping next to someone, the room feels empty and cold. 

Lizzie slips under the blankets and cuddles up to Josie. 

“Can’t sleep either?” Josie asks.

“Nope,” Lizzie sighs. “My bed is nice and all but…”

“It’s too cold,” They say in unison. Lizzie laughs and nuzzles into Josie’s shoulder. They lay like that for a while, neither of them daring to talk, and just watch the ceiling fan spin in the dark. 

It’s maybe thirty minutes before Josie can hear Lizzie’s breath slow down, and she emits a soft snore. Josie tries her best to follow suit, but it seems her sister isn’t the special ingredient she needs to fall asleep like previously thought. 

. . .

It was nearly sunrise when Josie finally falls asleep, but not even three hours later, Iggy knocks on her door and peeps his head in. 

“It’s time for breakfast,” He waves his hand, beckoning her to follow him. His entrance causes Lizzie to stir and let out a groan when she sees the light coming in from the window. 

“Oh, goody! You’re both here,” He says with a clap and grin. “Saves me a trip.”

Iggy closes the door behind him, and the second he leaves, Josie collapses back onto the bed and hides her face with a pillow, groaning. 

Lizzie is the first to move, and she’s not pleased about it. Josie feels the same but gets up anyway. They each start rummaging through the drawers of the dresser to find an outfit for the day. 

Today is the day they’ll see the Capitol for the first time and have to make a good impression on any potential sponsors. That’s one thing she knew about the Games, sponsors are the key to staying alive, and if she wants to get Lizzie out of that arena, they both need to look and act their best. Lizzie will no doubt have trouble getting people to like her, but Josie worries about herself. Back home, the twins were somewhat popular, and Lizzie is all to thank for that. 

Josie has been her shadow their whole lives; she likes things because Lizzie liked them, her friends are Lizzie’s friends, Lizzie’s life is her life. She doesn't mind, though. She’s perfectly content tagging along instead of blazing the trail.

The two pick out clothes and head down to the dining car. Josie is wearing emerald green flowy pants with a cream silk blouse, Lizzie is dressed in a baby blue shift dress. They almost look like Capitol citizens if it wasn't for their lack of makeup and slept in hair. 

It takes some looking, but they finally find the right train car. Iggy is sitting in the chair closest to the door, accompanied by two people Josie and Lizzie haven't met. 

When he notices the girls, he stands up and pulls out two seats for them and sassily says, “Glad you could make it.”

Josie blushes, “We got a little lost.”

Iggy nods and waits for them to sit down. 

“Josette, Elizabeth, meet your mentors.”

The woman looks up from her muffin, finally acknowledging their presence as they sit down next to her. She gives them a blank look, giving them a once over— assessing them, but she doesn't say anything and goes back to eating. 

“I’m Tanner,” The man next to her says. “And this is Scarlet.”

Josie shakes his hand, “I’m Josie.”

He smiles at her and grabs Lizzie’s hand to shake as well. Josie doesn't know much about Tanner. He won his games when she was only ten, and they didn't watch much of The Hunger Games at that age. 

Scarlet, on the other hand, was a relatively new Victor, only three years older than the twins, and her Games was one the girls watched live. She was vicious during them, and sitting next to her makes Josie uneasy. You can't unsee someone slit a twelve-year-old’s throat like it’s nothing. 

Tanner makes small talk the rest of breakfast along with Iggy, and Scarlet continues to ignore them. Josie just focuses on trying all the new foods in front of her, nearly making her sick with how full her belly gets. Thankfully, there's no talk of the impending Games. 

Josie almost forgets why she’s on this train and able to eat this food until she sees the Capitol’s skyline in the distance. Nestled between two mountains lies the colorful, glimmering city. Josie has only ever seen the Capitol in textbooks and glimpses of it on television, but nothing did it justice. 

The closer they get, the more colorful it becomes— the skyscrapers are a rainbow of colors, the streets paved pink and sleek cars pass the train as it goes deeper into the heart of the Capitol. 

Lizzie jumps from her seat, and Josie soon follows, forgetting all about the fancy foods and drinks that lay behind them. Hundreds of people wait by the train tracks to get a glimpse of the new tributes, all of them offensive to the eyes with their bright clothes and hair— some even dyed their skin. 

The crowd’s cheers get louder and louder when Josie and Lizzie start to wave back— Tanner even joins them, and the crowd roars at the sight of him. He’s clearly a Capitol favorite, and Josie can see why. 

He’s well built, with silky dark skin, and has a smile that lights up any room he’s in. Josie would be lying if she said she didn't have a crush on him growing up. But she can’t think of that now. Now he's her mentor and will teach her everything he knows about killing; she has to pay attention to that. He smiles at her, and she turns back to the window, wondering if he knows what she’s thinking. 

And even though Josie is disgusted with their excitement over the Games, she decides to try and enjoy it, for Lizzie’s sake, some of them might be rich after all.

. . .

After hours of getting her hair ripped off and her skin scrubbed raw, her prep team decides she’s finally ready to meet her stylist. 

Her team consists of three people: Albina, the tall woman with bleached white skin and hair, Glint, the spiky blue-haired man, and an older woman with wild red hair with vines woven into it. They were startling, to say the least. 

Josie feels utterly exposed as they escort her naked to the room she’s to meet her stylist in. She tries her best to cover herself as she passes by other tributes, but it’s of no use. She only has so many hands. 

They make her lie down on a metal table to wait. The metal feels cold on her naked skin, so cold she has to suppress a shiver and do everything in her power not to get up and grab the robe hanging on the other side of the room. 

Luckily, she doesn't have to wait long, and the door opens, revealing a very blue woman— like really blue. 

Looking past the deep blue of her skin, she is stunning with long black curls and chains of gold in her hair. She’s decked out in jewelry and wears an orange ensemble that surprisingly matches her dyed skin very well. In fact, with this outfit, the blue doesn’t look too bad. 

“Can you stand?” She asks, not breaking eye contact with Josie.

Josie maneuvers her way off the table, trying not to flash her more than she already is. She stans in the center of the room uncomfortably as the stylist walks around her, looking her up and down. She might as well be using a magnifying glass with the intensity she’s staring at Josie. 

Once satisfied, the woman tosses the robe to Josie and pulls up a chair. 

“I’m Ablah, and I’ll be your stylist for the next week,” She says. 

“I’m Josie,” They shake hands and enter an awkward silence as Ablah continues to look her down— and it doesn’t look like she’s pleased. 

“You’re a little bit skinnier than I anticipated, but the dress should work just fine with some minor alterations.”

This is the part Josie has been dreading the most outside of the actual Games— her styling. For years District 8 stylists have been dressing their tributes in awful outfits made from gaudy fabric. They always looked like idiots during the Parade, nothing ever quite matched, and the designs were tacky compared to the other tributes. They looked like Capitol citizens in the worst way possible.

Ablah must see the hesitation on Josie’s face as she lets out a laugh, “Yeah, I’d be skeptical too. Past stylists have really made District 8 a laughing stock next to the others, but I’m new this year and don't plan on continuing that legacy.”

Josie doesn't say anything but blushes and waits for her to continue. 

Her stylist gets up from her seat and pulls a garment bag off the rack Josie hadn't even noticed was there. Carefully, Ablah unzips the bag revealing the most beautiful dress Josie has ever seen.

“Gold, for victory,” She says. 

Ablah motions for Josie to take off her robe and helps her step into the gown— the dress was too simple of a word to describe it. 

The gown is made from the finest golden fabric from her district, the bodice is tight at the waist, and the rest flows to the floor. Her shoulders are exposed, but strands of beads act as her sleeves, looking like molten gold dripping down her arms. Josie can’t help but move to catch the light on the thousands of beads and gems on the gown. She wonders if Ablah did it all by herself, the beadwork is astonishing and like nothing she’s seen before in District 8. 

Josie stares at the gown in the mirror for what feels like hours admiring the handiwork and wishing she could one day be this good— she doesn't even notice when her prep team comes in armed with suitcases full of beauty products. 

They work fast, and before she knows it, Josie looks like a different person; she doesn’t even recognize the girl staring back at her. 

Her hair is curled and put up into an elegant low bun with a matching golden laurel circlet on her head. The makeup is flawless, dewy, and golden of course. They even cover her body with sparkling gold dust, like the dress, it catches the light and makes Josie appear to be actually glowing. 

She looks like one of the goddesses from her textbooks come to life. 

Ablah sees Josie’s awestruck expression in the mirror, “No one will be able to take their eyes off you— I know I won’t, and I’m the one who dreamed this all up.”

Josie can't help but laugh a little. She was right. Josie doesn't think she'll be able to stop looking at herself either. 

Her prep team does some finishing touches, and then they’re off. 

The walk to the chariots is long, which makes Josie glad she chose flats over the heels.  
When they round the corner, Josie finally sees her sister for the first time since getting off the train. She had been wondering what Lizzie’s outfit would look like— if it’ll be an identical dress or something complimentary, but nothing she thought up matched the real thing. 

Lizzie stands in sky-high heels, making her already tall sister seems like a giant compared to Josie. Instead of a dress, Lizzie is wearing a sleek golden suit made from the same fabric as her gown with similar beadwork, no doubt done by Lizzie’s stylist— it wasn’t as good as Ablah’s work. She isn’t wearing a shirt under the suit jacket, leaving her chest exposed and covered in the same dust as Josie. Her blonde hair is pin straight with what appears to be gold foil placed in streaks on her hair. She looks amazing. 

Josie all but runs up to her sister beaming. When Lizzie finally notices Josie, her face morphs into one of complete shock. Neither of them has ever seen the other look this beautiful. No, not beautiful— radiant.

Lizzie pulls her into a hug, and Josie has to suppress the urge to jump up and down in excitement. 

“You look amazing,” Her sister says. Josie giggles and gives her a twirl. “Wow, just wow.”

“Right back at you,” Josie winks; this outfit is giving her confidence she didn't know she had. 

As she looks around, she notices everyone is staring at them, all the other tributes and their stylists too. They’re either looking at them with jealousy or awe but none more than the tributes from District 2. If looks could kill, she would be dead ten times over. 

Josie has not yet watched their Reaping and doesn't know their names but the classic gladiatorial outfits— a signature of District 2 stylists gives them away. The taller blonde from District 2 glaring at the twins with all her might while the shorter auburn-haired girl’s jaw is dropped, and staring directly at Josie. 

The two’s eyes meet briefly before she looks away blushing, Josie feels her cheeks heat up too and looks away but not before seeing the blonde roll her eyes and give the other girl a shove. 

Lizzie pulls her back to reality, and they catch up and share brief stories about their meetings with their stylists and the horrors of the Remake Center before a voice comes through the speakers telling them it’s time to mount the chariots.

A wave of anxiety washes over Josie as the District 7 chariot pulls forward, them following not far behind. Lizzie grabs her hand and mouths, “We got this.”

Josie uses Lizzie’s hand like a lifeline, squeezing it as they get closer and closer to the Avenue of the Tributes and the crowd that awaits them. The cheering gets louder, and Josie is soon blinded by the lights over the avenue, lighting up this year's tributes for all of Panem to see. 

At first, she’s frozen. This is a pivotal moment for the girls in regards to the Games. It’s their first true impression for the sponsors, and Josie needed them to open their wallets when the time came. So against every instinct, she has to hide away and try to be invisible like she has her entire life; she puts on her best megawatt smile and starts waving. 

Something takes over her, and before she knows it, she’s let go of Lizzie’s hand so she can wave to both sides of the crowd at once, and they’re eating it up. She blows kisses and catches flowers as they’re thrown at her. The more she catches, the louder they get. 

Lizzie isn’t doing so bad either and has a solid bouquet as they near the end of the street. They’re both enjoying it as much as the crowd is, and who's to blame them? It’s not every day you have thousands of adoring fans screaming if you so much as look their way. 

No one was going to forget the girls from District 8, not after tonight. 

When their chariot comes to a stop, Josie is still waving and smiling and doesn’t stop until the national anthem dies down, and the crowd goes silent. She takes her eyes off the Capitol citizens for the first time and looks up to the platform above. 

There is President Snow in all her glory, wearing her classic white pantsuit with a red rose tucked neatly in her lapel. She is much uglier in person. 

Josie doesn’t care enough to listen to what she says. It’s the same shit about thanking the tributes for their sacrifice and courage every year as if they have a say in anything that’s happening to them. 

Their chariot begins to move back, the horses needing no direction, and soon they're heading into the Tribute Center. Since it’s a Quarter Quell, everything is new— the living quarters, the Training Center, and of course, a special arena. She can’t imagine what horrors await her there, but in less than a week, she’ll be finding out. 

Scarlet, Tanner, and Iggy wait for them at the entrance to the elevators. Josie has never ridden in one before; sure they had them in District 8, but they’re only for the upper management of the factories or Capitol officials visiting. The ride up makes her stomach flip, and she’s tempted to ask to go again. Iggy would probably let her, he seems very eager to show the ‘poor’ tributes from District 8 all the luxuries before they're sent to their death, but Josie doesn’t want to seem childish. Plus, they’ll be riding the elevator again surely, they have a busy schedule this next week after all— Iggy won't let them forget. 

The apartment is massive, walls well over ten feet tall, golden chandeliers and furniture so expensive and clean Josie is scared to touch it. It’s all overwhelming, just like on the train, so Josie decides to recuse herself to her room. 

For a couple of minutes, she sits on her new bed, fingers playing with the tufts on the covers and mind replaying the night. Despite everything, it was spectacular. 

It pains her to think that she has to get out of this gown and wash off her makeup. If she could have it her way, she’d have this gown made her new uniform, and this makeup tattooed on. Nothing has ever made her feel quite this special. 

But Josie does as she’d told and sheds the gown and scrubs the makeup, erasing all evidence of tonight. She’s made quite a mess, the shower is sparkling from the shimmering body dust, and some beads seem to have fallen off the gown. Josie feels a pang in her heart looking at the beautiful dress in a pool on the tiled floor of her bathroom, but she has to remind herself it was never designed to be worn more than once. 

After feeling sufficiently clean, she pulls on some silky pajamas, like the nightgown from the train, and looks down at the city below. 

They’re pretty high up being on the building’s eighth floor, but Josie can still see the crowds below the Tribute Center. Even though it’s past sunset, the city is still alive with color and lights. She spends a while enjoying looking around the city and taking in its grandeur, but then the billboard facing her window lights up with her and Lizzie’s faces from the Tribute Parade.

It’s humbling at first, her face illuminating the city below, but then she reads the text, begging people to vote and bet on this year's winning Victor, and the whole high of the night she’s been riding comes crashing down. 

Behind all the pretty dresses and adoring fans lies something much more sinister, something that wants her death broadcasted on live television, and she can’t forget that.

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on twitter @josettcs!!


End file.
